


Leitner didn't get them all

by Gingerspark



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Coercion, Creeper Elias Bouchard, Desk Sex, Elias is a bastard, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Humiliation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Praise Kink, Sex repulsed character coerced into sexual activity, Smug Elias Bouchard, Trans Martin Blackwood, asexual jon sims
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21861931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingerspark/pseuds/Gingerspark
Summary: It was the face Elias made when he came that really did it. It was insufferably smug, like he was pleased he’d engineered this awful, humiliating situation Martin was in.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Elias Bouchard, Martin Blackwood/Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Everyone, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 25
Kudos: 168





	1. Shut up, Elias

**Author's Note:**

> So, given that Leitner wasn't actually responsible for the books, there are probably at least a few floating around that don't actually have his name in them.

Jon’s first clue that something was wrong was that Martin didn’t knock and wasn’t holding tea. It took him a moment longer to register the distress distorting Martin’s flushed face, and his unusually dishevelled clothes.

“Martin? What is it?” He asked, pushing his chair back.

Martin looked around frantically, looking even more wild eyed. “This was NOT the door I wanted! Helen!” he snapped, irritation cutting through the panic.

“Martin, what’s going on?” John asked, the compulsion rushing out of his mouth without his permission.

“I found a book, not a Leitner, I checked, I’m not stupid. I found it in artefact storage, I thought it might have been misfiled. I don’t know why I picked it up, I didn’t even think about it.” Jon could feel Martin’s resistance to the compulsion and tried to cut it off, hating himself for slipping.

“Martin, _stop._ ”

Martin, stopped, panting, just as Elias opened the door.

“I’m afraid, Jon, that Martin found a book that’s been in artefact storage for a very long time, before Leitner even started collecting. Rather a benign tome, as these things go, but Martin’s been trying to deal with the effects on his own for almost an hour, haven’t you Martin?” Elias said, smug, punchable face leering at Martin.

“You did this-“

“What did you do, Elias?”

“Oh, Martin, really. You _know_ you picked the book up all on your own,” Elias said, ignoring Jon’s demand.

“What is it going to do?” Jon ground out, forcing as much power into the compulsion as he could.

Elias’s smirk didn’t falter. “Kill him, of course. What were you expecting, Archivist?”

“That’s not benign!” Martin shouted as Jon felt his stomach drop. Martin didn’t look good, leaning against the wall for support, eyes slightly glassy.

“Unless, of course, he gets rather a lot of sex in the next few hours,” Elias finished, eyeing Martin’s shaking body. Jon froze, fear mixing with embarrassment and awkward helplessness.

“Fuck you, Elias,” Martin gritted his teeth, but Jon noticed Martin was squeezing his thighs together, and there was a faint scent of arousal in the room.

“Well, you don’t have much of a choice there, do you?” Elias said, a benevolent smile not quite masking the predatory gleam in his eyes. “Jon won’t be much help.”

When Elias looked away from Martin Jon pulled all his hatred for Elias to the front of his mind and pushed it at the man. Elias gave him a fond smile.

“Did you set this up?” Jon demanded, glaring.

Elias looked smug, but not more than usual. Jon supposed Helen was at least as much to blame, whatever her reasons for dumping Martin down here were.

“Jon, Jon, not right now,” Martin breathed, now slumped against the wall with a hand pressed against the front of his trousers.

Jon had never been more uncomfortable in his life. He forced himself to step closer to Martin, ignoring Elias’s smirk.

“What – what do you want me – us to do?” Jon kept the compulsion out of his voice. There was no need to make any of this less voluntary than it already was.

“Fuck me,” Martin said, voice hoarse.

Jon flinched.

Martin grimaced. “Elias then.”

“Do you – should I leave?” Jon had no idea what he was doing, but the flicker of fear on Martin’s face meant he’d be staying. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay,” he said, patting Martin’s arm.

“Now all that’s decided, perhaps we should get on with it? Martin did waste rather a lot of time fingering himself and hoping this would all go away -“

“Shut up Elias,” Martin snapped, staggering to his feet.

Jon grabbed hold of his arm to steady him.

“Over the desk I should think,” Elias commented.

“Shut UP,” Martin repeated, bending over the desk and roughly shoving his trousers down.

Jon hovered, trying to decide where on earth he was supposed to be. Sitting at his desk? Standing next to Elias while he – while he penetrated Martin?

“Jon, do sit down and stop dithering,” Elias interjected. “I’m sure Martin would enjoy watching your face while I fuck him.”

When Martin didn’t contradict Elias Jon settled back into his desk chair and hesitantly reached for one of Martin’s hands. Martin gripped on like Jon was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth, so Jon gave him the other hand too.

“Very good Jon,” Elias said, making Jon bristle. “But Martin, really? This isn’t a quickie in cupboard, undress properly please. You’ll be here at least a few hours, I shouldn’t imagine you’ll want to stay in those clothes after we’re done.”

Martin’s face was flushed with humiliation, but he pushed himself up, kicking off his shoes and pulling his shirt off. Behind him Elias grinned and undid his belt, leering at Martin’s soft body. Martin stepped out of his trousers and lay down over the desk, this time burying his face in his arms as he ground his hips into the desk.

“Get on with it” Martin mumbled as Elias ran his gaze over Martin’s arse and the wet folds between his legs.

“If you insist,” Elias said, reaching a hand towards Martin’s crotch.

Jon reached out and rested his hand (comfortingly?) on Martin’s head. He wasn’t sure if the moaning noise Martin made was for that or whatever Elias was doing, but it didn’t seem to be bad.

“Oh Martin, you’re dripping,” Elias sounded delighted, holding two fingers up to show Jon, who glared.

“ _Fuck me_ ” Martin snarled, startling Jon, but Elias finally complied, lining himself up and thrusting forwards.

The sound Martin made was disturbingly animalistic, quickly dissolving into little moans of pleasure every time Elias snapped his hips forwards.

Jon kept his hand in Martin’s hair, gently carding through the soft curls. Slowly, a soft moan at a time, Martin forgot his embarrassment and lifted his head from his arms, reaching to clutch at Jon’s other hand. Jon smiled weakly as Martin’s dazed eyes met his before a strong thrust from Elias had Martin’s head snapping forward again.

Over the curves of Martin’s arse, Elias looked practically unaffected. His fly was undone and his shirt was untucked, but his tie was still pristinely knotted and there was only a hint of colour in his cheeks. He gave Jon a sharp smile.

“You know Martin, none of this does anything for Jon,” Elias said, voice smooth. “All of your pretty little moans and he’s – ah, still completely soft.”

Martin whimpered, turning his face away from Jon.

“Shut up Elias,” Jon said, feeling himself flush slightly. This really wasn’t how he wanted any discussion about his sexuality to go. He wished there was- ah!

“Elias, did you set this up?” He hoped the compulsion would be more effective with Elias distracted.

“Oh, Archivist,” Elias moaned, thrusting harder and producing little gasping noises from Martin. “Of course not, I had no idea Martin –ah, was going to read that book. I could have told him all, his, his frantic masturbation was useless a little earlier, but really, I try to avoid that sort of inappropriateness with my employees. Boundaries, you know?”

“Boundaries.” Jon said, watching Elias bury himself in Martin’s – in Martin.

Elias flashed him a grin and carried on fucking Martin, making the desk shake with every thrust.

“Harder,” Martin gasped out.

“Ask nicely please Martin,” Elias said disapprovingly, slowing his thrusts. Martin whimpered.

Jon had never wanted to gouge someone’s eyes out more. Was that a flash of alarm from Elias?

“Ah, uh, hard, harder pleaseElias,” Martin gasped.

Elias complied, and a few moments later Martin tensed, twitching and gasping as he came, and then slumping limply.

“Very good,” Elias murmured, stroking a hand over Martin’s hip. Jon wanted to rip it off.

It was the face Elias made when he came that really did it. It was insufferably smug, like he was pleased he’d engineered this awful, humiliating situation Martin was in.

The expression Elias had when the tape recorder hit him in the nose as his orgasm tailed off was something Jon would treasure. Shock, confusion, pain, and that startled little shriek. Perhaps beholding would let him keep it perfectly preserved.

Best of all, Martin giggled. He sounded hazy, not all there, but he was staring wide eyed over his shoulder as Elias staggered back, hands to his bloody nose.

“Well, I think we’re done here,” Elias said. His composure was a lot less convincing with blood spattering his crisp white shirt and his prissy grey tie. Martin let out another tiny snort of laughter as Elias tucked himself back in and stalked out, handkerchief held to his nose.

Martin slid off the desk, collapsing into a heap as Jon rushed around the desk.

“Oh god, can, you, can you show me? His, his face when you?” Martin said struggling to get the words out through the sniggering.

Jon knelt in front of Martin and pulled the image up in his head, and sort of pushed it at Martin. He knew he’d succeeded when Martin made a choking noise and collapsed into his shoulder.


	2. Tim's spooky consent nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim spots Elias walking out of the archives with a broken nose. Tim investigates.

Tim like to keep an eye on Elias when he was down in the archives. He was miserably aware there wasn’t much he could do about the scheming bastard, but it made him feel a little more in control.

He’d never before been treated to the sight of Elias with a broken nose. Tim reached for his phone, but fumbled it when Elias’s head snapped round to give him a threatening look. By the time he’d picked it up again, Elias was gone, but nothing could ruin Tim’s mood. Someone had decked Elias and broken his smug, pretty face. This was the best day Tim had had in ages.

Tim checked the break room. His prime suspect for punching Elias in the face was Melanie, but she wasn’t here. Daisy was out today, and Basira was in one of the reading rooms, so Tim stalked into Jon’s office.

He stopped in his tracks, door half open.

Martin was naked, slumped against Jon and leaning against the desk. Jon was fully dressed, but he had his arm around Martin’s shoulders with what had to be the most physical affection Tim had ever seen from the man. Tim took in the neat surgery scars on Martin’s chest with slight surprise, still caught between “did you punch Elias?” and “Am I interrupting something?”

Then he noticed that Martin had a hand between his legs and Jon looked – well, about as uncomfortable as he’d expected Jon to look confronted with a naked person.

“Alright, what the fuck’s going on now?”

“Elias,” Martin snapped, without stopping touching himself. Tim was still stuck on how un-Martinlike semi-public masturbation was.

“I threw a tape recorder at him,” Jon said. “There was a book, he probably left it there as a trap. Apparently Martin dies if he doesn’t get enough sex in the next few hours.” Jon sounded out of his depth, detached and helpless. Tim supposed he could cut the man a bit of slack if he’d really broken Elias’s nose with a tape recorder. He’d have to suggest that one to Melanie, but right now he had bigger problems.

“Great, a spooky consent nightmare, exactly what this job needs,” Tim said, shutting the door behind himself. If this wasn’t one of Elias’s sick games, Martin needed help. It was obvious that Jon wasn’t going to be any use, so Tim was going to ignore him like he was ignoring the smell of sex filling the room.

“Hey, Martin, can you look at me for a moment?” Tim said gently, dropping to his knees.

Martin looked up from Jon’s shoulder, eyes glassy.

“Martin, what do you want to do?” Tim wasn’t going to make assumptions, but he didn’t think Martin was suicidal.

“Don’t want to die,” Martin said, meeting Tim’s eyes.

“Alright, do you want me to fuck you or do you want me to find someone else?” Tim asked.

“You, please Tim,” Martin said, sounding increasingly breathless.

“Okay, Martin, I will. Do you want to get it over with or do you want me to make you feel good?” Martin didn’t have a lot of choices here, but Tim could give him that one. If Martin wanted to away in his head and pretend none of this was happening, he could make that easy.

“Er, I think it’ll be less effective if – mmph,“ Tim put a hand over Jon’s mouth, keeping his attention on Martin’s reactions.

“I, um, want to feel good,” Martin said, spreading his legs and not making eye contact. Martin, flushed with arousal and squirming with embarrassment, was unfairly attractive.

“I can do that,” Tim said, giving Martin his best bedroom smile and keeping his hand over Jon’s stupid mouth. “Where do you want me to fuck you?” Tim was pretty sure they wouldn’t be finding lube in Jon’s office, so he was really hoping Martin didn’t prefer anal.

“Here,” Martin gasped, three fingers in his cunt.

Tim smiled, taking his hand off Jon’s face so he could strip. He snagged a condom out of his jacket before he pushed it out of the way.

“Uh – “ Jon was staring at the condom and shaking his head.

“Really?”

“It’ll, um.” Jon waved his hand vaguely. “It won’t, won’t work.”

“And how do you know that?” Tim asked.

Jon grimaced. Great. More creepy archive nonsense.

“Right, fine. Martin, can you get pregnant?” He’d rather not ask, but he _really_ didn’t want to risk conceiving children as part of some Leitner based workplace inappropriateness.

Martin shook his head emphatically, so Tim didn’t hesitate in pushing his pants off and lifting Martin into a more comfortable position. It was against Jon, who could at least make himself useful as furniture.

Tim shifted closer, kneeling between Martin’s spread legs, slipping two fingers in and matching his rhythm to Martin’s. Martin moaned and bucked up into Tim’s hand. Tim bent over Martin’s sopping cunt, and gently ran his tongue across Martin’s clit. Martin went quiet, staring up at the ceiling and gripping Jon’s trousers as Tim ran gentle circles round his clit and pumped three fingers inside him. Tim kept going until Martin’s thighs started clenching around his waist. Martin whimpered when he eased back, slowing his fingers.

“So good for me Martin, you’re beautiful, such a good boy,” Tim murmured, grinning as Martin relaxed. Jon looked even more uncomfortable, like a cat sprayed with water. Tim pushed the guilty thrill to the back of his mind, gently working Martin back up to the point of orgasm. He tipped Martin over the edge with a broad lick across his clit. Martin came hard, throwing his head back (and inadvertently headbutting Jon, but Tim didn’t mind that) and clenching tightly around Tim’s fingers as he spasmed. Martin’s head lolled onto Jon’s chest as his orgasm subsided. Tim smiled in satisfaction, leaning back and trying to rub some feeling back into his knees.

“Martin? Martin?” Jon seemed to be trying to shake Martin awake.

“Give him a minute,” Tim said. “Honestly Jon, it’s like you’ve never made someone come so hard they passed out.”

The glare Jon sent him was almost as gratifying as the way his head had knocked into the desk when Martin came.

Tim cradled Martin’s face in his hands.

“Martin,” he called. “Martin.”

“Mmm” Martin responded, blinking up at him.

“Martin, do you want me to fuck you on your back or your front?”

“Uh...”

Pleased as he was with making Martin come so hard he forgot how to talk, it wasn’t exactly great for figuring out what Martin wanted. Tim pulled Martin’s hands off Jon’s trousers and held them gently.

“Your back?” he squeezed Martin’s left hand. “Or your front?” he squeezed the other hand. Martin squeezed his left hand, eyes shut again.

“Well done Martin, thank you,” Tim whispered.

He lifted Martin out of Jon’s lap, lying him gently down on the rug.

“Jon, do you have a blanket or something?”

“What? I thought you were going to, to,” Jon spluttered, gesturing wildly at Martin.

“Oh, you want him to get carpet burn?” Tim raised an eyebrow.

“No, um, I think there’s one in the cupboard in the break room?”

“Fetch it,” Tim ordered.

Jon spluttered incoherently.

Tim rolled his eyes, gesturing to his naked body and erect cock, then to Jon’s fully dressed form. Jon bolted from the room like a startled rabbit.

When he came back, Tim had managed to fold up a jumper under Martin’s head and was kissing him slowly, coaxing squeaks from Martin by pinching his nipples.

Jon hovered in the doorway like the useless idiot he was, holding a pile of bedding.

“Bring that here and hold Martin’s hand.” Jon seemed a touch more comfortable when he had clear instructions. Not that Tim cared. Tim enjoyed having an audience enough that he could keep himself hard through the disapproving glares of his boss. Hey, it wasn’t like he could get fired!

When he’d got Martin settled onto the blankets he ran his hands gently over Martin’s torso, humming thoughtfully.

“I’m not sure you know how handsome you look like this.” Martin squirmed, burying his face in Jon’s thigh.

“You’re gorgeous, all splayed out and ready for me,” Tim continued. “He looks beautiful, doesn’t he Jon?” Tim directed a sharp look at Jon.

“Um, yes. Yes.” Jon took a deep breath. “You look beautiful Martin.”

Tim smiled and Martin shoved the hand that wasn’t clasped between Jon’s between his legs, an expression of pure delight on his face.

Tim wrapped Martin’s legs around his waist and lined himself up. He sunk in in a single slow thrust, bottoming out with a groan.

“Fuck” he breathed as Martin whimpered. Tim gripped Martin’s hips and started a slow rhythm, watching Martin’s reactions and carefully shifting the angle of his thrusts until Martin was gasping with every thrust.

Tim wondered if he’d ever stop finding Jon’s reactions amusing.

“Jon, make – make yourself useful and pinch Martin’s pretty nipples for me,” Tim said, ignoring Jon’s affronted glare.

Jon hesitantly touched Martin’s chest, rolling a nipple between his fingers.

Tim rolled his eyes, swatting Jon’s hand out of the way. He ran his hand firmly across Martin’s chest, pinching and twisting firmly. Tim smirked as Martin let out a high pitched moan.

“Like _that_ ” Tim said, not pausing in his thrusts.

Jon returned to teasing at Martin’s nipples with a little more skill, managing to get Martin to moan for him as Tim fucked Martin harder. Tim could feel himself getting closer to the edge.

“Jon, tell, tell Martin he’s a good boy,” Tim panted.

Martin’s hand was still moving frantically across his clit.

“You’re, uh, you’re such a good boy Martin.” Jon said, fidgeting and looking at the ceiling. “You’re doing so well.”

Martin came silently, body twitching and clamping down on Tim’s cock and tipping him over the edge. Tim came with a shout, fucking Martin through it before collapsing next to him.

“Fuck that was hot.”

Jon snorted, still running his hands thorough Martin’s curls.

Tim propped himself up on an elbow, fighting the impulse to pull Martin into his arms and go to sleep. Martin seemed exhausted, his head limp in Jon’s lap. “You should – you should get him cleaned up a bit. Make sure he’s had some sugary tea if he can’t eat.”

“I don’t think we’re done yet,” Jon said, looking anxious.

“Well, I’m done,” Tim said, lying back down. “Wake me up in half an hour, I might manage more.”

If Jon responded, Tim didn’t hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohooo! chapter 2! Comments sustain me and help me write the next chapter

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where Elias getting his nose broken came from.  
> Maybe it worked because the tape recorders are an artefact of beholding.   
> Maybe I just wanted break Elias's nose.  
> Next chapter will have Tim!


End file.
